


Stretches of London Silence

by ArtificialDreamer



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Characters are oddly emotional & unemotional, I speedran this, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Mental heath check, Pain, Sad, Suicide, drowing, idk - Freeform, restarted 3 times because ao3 doesnt auto save, slight projecting, this easnt where i wanted to end up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-13 00:54:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28519728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArtificialDreamer/pseuds/ArtificialDreamer
Summary: There are times when George just stares up at his ceiling and listens.Listens to his heartbeat.Listens to the last cars driving down the streets.Listens to the comfortable silence of his house.Sometimes, though, the silence stretches on for too long.Sometimes, George wishes it wasn’t so silent.
Relationships: n/a





	Stretches of London Silence

**Author's Note:**

> As always, if any creators mentioned or referenced in this story become uncomfortable with fan works or fanfiction, this and and other works of mine that include them will be taken down.

It was one of those nights. The type where it was too early to go back to bed but to late to call his friends. It was one of the many downfalls to having your best friends live in another country.

Of course, George _could_ call Wilbur or Fundy. The latter was an hour ahead as well, but both needed their sleep. Long nights and nonexistent sleep schedules weren’t uncommon when you were a content creator.

He spend what seemed like hours sitting there, while in reality could only be minutes. Rain fell from the sky, hitting his windows and sliding to the floor of his balcony, before it slid off the concrete in streams.

The rain was constant. It was always there, and if it wasn’t, with time it would be. 

George watched the water a little longer before slipping out of his bed, blankets forming a puddle on the floor. Bare feet made their way to the kitchen where a number was tacked on a cork board. 

_800-273-8255_

Would they even pick up? Would they respond?

He left the kitchen and walked to the front door.

He could hear cars passing, splashing water onto the sidewalk, could see the water seep under his doorway, feel it as the carpet became squishy and the tile, slippery.

He left the window, his phone cold in his hand. Cold like rain, like water. Like tile.

He crawled back into his bed, the covers that were on the floor now damp, making him shiver. The water was up to his chin as he sat back against the headboard. The house was filling with water, slowly flooding every room. Ruining everything.

He dialed the number, waiting as the phone rang.

“Hello?” the voice at the other end of the line responded.

”Hello? Is anyone there?” Someone was there, but they weren’t in any condition to respond.

_The line went dead._

He wasn’t alone when he died.

_people give up on people so easily  
__they look at you  
__they hear you  
__they touch you  
__and they jump away like theyve been burnt  
__humanity is not kind  
__humanity does not keep promises  
__humanity is not merciful   
__humanity does not give second chances  
__it judges you for what you’ve done wro_ ng  
_not what you’ve done right  
__they blame you for their wrongdoings  
__but you couldnt do wrong_

_promises dont mean shit  
__theyre empty like words  
__people always promise what they cant give  
__they say that one day  
__and some day  
__but never when  
__they talk talk talk  
__and never deliver  
__promises are like windows  
__promises are like locks  
__promises are like eyes  
__a way to see into the soul  
__a pathway to the heart  
__people use promises to   
__thrust a knife into your ribcage_  
_and twist it until you are a doll_  
following their rules

**Author's Note:**

> This was written after i made a uhhh joke about myself regarding semicolons and death sentences
> 
> “Semicolons are used when an author couldve ended a sentence and chose not to. You are the author and the story is your life”
> 
> :/
> 
> i mean, im fineeee  
> but that happened.


End file.
